Until the age of eight, I shared a room with my younger sister, but after my parents purchased our first family home in a small town north of Toronto, Canada, I finally got a room of my own. Without going all Virginia Woolf about it, I will simply state that having a space to myself did wonders for my imagination and creativity. Not long after getting my own bedroom, my parents were kind enough to buy me an electric Smith Corona typewriter for my tenth birthday, and I spent countless hours at my desk - with the bedroom door closed, of course - typing away at my first short stories and early attempts at novels.
Writing is a solitary activity. Though some writers like working in bustling places like restaurants or cafés, I have always preferred the seclusion of a quiet room. As a teenager I began to yearn for a good, old-fashioned gentleman's study, the kind I sometimes saw in films depicting Victorian England, and I made a vow to create a space like that for myself once I had my own house.
Acquiring a house took a decade or two longer than I had originally anticipated, but I am happy to report that I have finally achieved the goal I had set for myself when I was a teenager - I finally have a study to call my own. Of course, creating a study was not my first priority when I purchased this house in Fertőendréd, but once the other essential renovations - floors, electrical and plumbing upgrade, new furnace, roof repair, exterior and interior insulation, painting, new kitchen and bathrooms - were complete, I finally had the chance to turn my attention to creating that study I have always dreamed about.
The space is still a work in progress, but I have installed wall-to-wall bookshelves along the north wall and have placed my old, antique, double sided desk prominently near the center of the room. I purchased a carpet and even have a deer antler trophy on the wall. I have no real desire to make the room as opulent and rich as a Victorian study, but I have plans to buy a couple of nice chairs, some paintings, a reading chair of some kind, and perhaps some kind of chaise longue or small sofa on which I could take naps on rainy Sunday afternoons.
Though the study is only technically half finished, it is perfectly functional, and after many, many years of reading and writing in whatever space happened to be convenient in the various apartments my wife and I rented around the world, I finally have a study to call my own, but unlike my bedroom in my family's first home in Canada, I never close the door to my study because I am not the only person who uses the space.
My son staked his territory on the other side of my double sided desk not long after I put some temporary chairs into the room. He filled the drawers on the other side of the desk with his pencils, crayons, books, and drawings and stated he would do his work in the room as well. He has kept his word and often comes into the room while I am working and proceeds to do his homework or draw his latest masterpiece. During these times I often pause to help him, or set aside my work and join him in sketching dragons or robots or whatever creatures he happens to find interesting that particular day. Sometimes I read to him, or help him practice his writing. Sometimes we just sit and chat. The whole time I cannot help but think how wonderful it is to have a study to call my own, and how wonderful it is to have someone else with me in this study I call my own.
Writing is a solitary activity. Though some writers like working in bustling places like restaurants or cafés, I have always preferred the seclusion of a quiet room. As a teenager I began to yearn for a good, old-fashioned gentleman's study, the kind I sometimes saw in films depicting Victorian England, and I made a vow to create a space like that for myself once I had my own house.
Acquiring a house took a decade or two longer than I had originally anticipated, but I am happy to report that I have finally achieved the goal I had set for myself when I was a teenager - I finally have a study to call my own. Of course, creating a study was not my first priority when I purchased this house in Fertőendréd, but once the other essential renovations - floors, electrical and plumbing upgrade, new furnace, roof repair, exterior and interior insulation, painting, new kitchen and bathrooms - were complete, I finally had the chance to turn my attention to creating that study I have always dreamed about.
The space is still a work in progress, but I have installed wall-to-wall bookshelves along the north wall and have placed my old, antique, double sided desk prominently near the center of the room. I purchased a carpet and even have a deer antler trophy on the wall. I have no real desire to make the room as opulent and rich as a Victorian study, but I have plans to buy a couple of nice chairs, some paintings, a reading chair of some kind, and perhaps some kind of chaise longue or small sofa on which I could take naps on rainy Sunday afternoons.
Though the study is only technically half finished, it is perfectly functional, and after many, many years of reading and writing in whatever space happened to be convenient in the various apartments my wife and I rented around the world, I finally have a study to call my own, but unlike my bedroom in my family's first home in Canada, I never close the door to my study because I am not the only person who uses the space.
My son staked his territory on the other side of my double sided desk not long after I put some temporary chairs into the room. He filled the drawers on the other side of the desk with his pencils, crayons, books, and drawings and stated he would do his work in the room as well. He has kept his word and often comes into the room while I am working and proceeds to do his homework or draw his latest masterpiece. During these times I often pause to help him, or set aside my work and join him in sketching dragons or robots or whatever creatures he happens to find interesting that particular day. Sometimes I read to him, or help him practice his writing. Sometimes we just sit and chat. The whole time I cannot help but think how wonderful it is to have a study to call my own, and how wonderful it is to have someone else with me in this study I call my own.
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